


Like a Crow Flies

by beng



Series: The Dawn Will Come [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dwarven Carta, Gen, Hinterlands, Maps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beng/pseuds/beng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric is not happy with how the Herald navigates the Hinterlands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Crow Flies

"Hey, Cadash, you know how roads work, don’t you?"

The annoyed storyteller plops down in the camp chair in front of her, a mug of ale hugged to his belly. The Herald raises her head from the upside down map she’s been studying and blinks in confusion. 

"Huh? Course I do."

"Then tell me: why are we always breaking through the bushes, wading across pools and sliding down cliffs? Why do we take  _real_  paths so rarely?”

The Herald smirks, amusement softening her usual, carefully shuttered expression.

"Those  _are_  paths, Varric. Be grateful we use the streets when in town, not backyards and rooftops.”

"Look at how a crow flies," she continues with a wave of her hand. "It passes through the trees or flies over a forest, it walks on the ground or hops up on a stone… It moves in all directions, up and down, left and right. But people, they just…" The Herald shrugs. "There’s a street and they walk it. They don’t even look up or down, they don’t even consider that there’s space there too.”

"A space where an assassin could be hiding," she murmurs. "Or a thief. Or a spy."

Varric narrows his eyes at her.

"Haven’t seen anybody perching in the trees here," he finally drawls.

Cadash shakes her head. “No, it’s… It’s about what happens here,” she taps a finger to her forehead. “It’s the way to do stuff — to look all around and go where you need, not where the path leads.”

With that, she puts the map down on the table and leans over it, the parchement still upside down. It doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. 

Varric rolls his eyes as he sips his ale and contemplates his skinned knuckles and scuffed boots. It’s just his luck that their Herald would be a former Carta agent with some creative approach to terrain. Traipsing around with Cassandra hasn't made him love nature any more than when he was accompanying Hawke in the mountains or along the Wounded Coast.

But maybe, Varric thinks, glancing at the meticulous to-do lists, requisition letters and armour schematics littering the table, maybe a few scratches are not that high a price for a Herald that smirks as if she owns the world and picks her paths like a crow flies.


End file.
